


A Matter of Urgency

by Art3misiA



Series: Love Fest 2021 works [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathrooms, Crack, Fairest of the Rare's Love Fest 2021, Gen, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Show us your crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: The lads try to figure out why women always seem to go to the bathroom together.
Series: Love Fest 2021 works [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152686
Comments: 18
Kudos: 12
Collections: Love Fest 2021, Rare Pairs RHM Read for LoveFest





	A Matter of Urgency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LionLadyBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionLadyBee/gifts).



> Written for the Fairest of The Rare's Love Fest 2021  
> #TeamCass
> 
> Inspired by the prompt, "Why do best friends have to go to the ladies room together?"
> 
> I figured since I had one witch from each house, it was only fair that one wizard from each was also present.
> 
> I also warn all readers that I went a bit wild with the adverbs and dialogue tags... well actually, with just about everything. I stand by my decision and refuse to apologise.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Ginny stood up. “Right, I’m off to the loo,” she declared confidently. 

“I’ll come with you,” Hannah said decisively.

“Yes, I’d better come too. Nargles often lurk in bathrooms,” Luna added mysteriously.

The three women turned to look at Pansy expectantly.

The Slytherin witch sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically, but rose to join the others. “I might as well,” she said with an air of resignation.

The women marched off in the direction of The Three Broomsticks’ conveniences, leaving the men staring after them with equally perplexed expressions on their faces. 

“Why do witches  _ always  _ pee in groups?” Terry asked, furrowing his brow so hard it was a wonder he didn’t get wrinkles.

“Not just witches,” Harry said, authoritatively. “Muggle women do it, too. All the time.” Having shared this nugget of wisdom, he slurped from his glass of butterbeer, leaving foam on his upper lip.

“Do they… need to help each other, or something?” Blaise pondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully in a way that made him look handsome while he contemplated. “Can they not go on their own?”

“Maybe they have orgies in there,” Ernie said, winking pervily at the others.

“In the  _ bathroom?”  _ exclaimed Terry, sounding mightily affronted. “But that sounds so… unhygienic.”

“What, having an all-girl orgy?” Blaise exclaimed, his eyes wide with the shock he felt. 

“You’re not one of  _ those  _ types, are you?” Ernie accused, glaring. “You know, the type that thinks it’s  _ wrong  _ for women to enjoy sex with each other?”

“Or men, for that for that matter!” Harry interjected, taking Blaise’s hand defiantly. “Enjoying sex with each other, I mean!”

“He knows what you mean, love,” Blaise soothed, kissing Harry’s knuckles tenderly.

“What? No!” Terry ejaculated, suddenly panicking. “I have no problem with anyone having sex with anyone, so long as they’re of age and consenting! I just meant that the  _ bathrooms  _ are unhygienic!”

His companions looked at him in disappointment. “You mean you’ve never shagged anyone in the loos?” Ernie whispered, sounding amazed. “Never at all?”

“Of course not!” Terry hissed, leaning forward as if worried someone might overhear. “That’s where people  _ shit.”  _

The others burst into raucous laughter, leaning on each other and the table in their mirth. Ernie was wiping at his streaming eyes, Blaise was snorting uncontrollably, sounding somehow adorable while doing it, and Harry was banging his fist on the table’s edge. Unfortunately, he banged too hard and knocked his glass of butterbeer over, spilling it into his lap.

“Terry,” Harry gasped, using his wand to clean up the sticky mess all over his trousers. “You can do  _ magic.  _ Just cast a strong  _ Scourgify  _ over the surface first, if you’re that worried.”

“How can you forget that?” Blaise sighed, looking mournful. “Harry didn’t know anything about magic until he was  _ eleven, _ and he still knows more about basic spell use than you.”

“I—I  _ didn’t  _ forget!” Terry squeaked indignantly, going red as the famous Weasley hair. “I just haven’t given any thought to sex in bathrooms, that’s all!”

“Well, you should try it,” Ernie imparted wisely. “You won’t regret it.”

Blaise suddenly jumped as if he’d sat on something sharp, but actually, he’d only realised a salient fact. “You know, the girls still aren’t back,” he said, stating the obvious. “Maybe they  _ are  _ having an orgy in there.”

“Could they have fallen in?” Harry fretted, tugging at his characteristically messy hair. “All that sitting down comes with risks, you know. Maybe someone left the toilet seat up and they got stuck?”

“Why in Merlin’s name would someone leave the seat up in the ladies’ bathrooms?” Ernie gasped. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said, clearly baffled. “But I remember my Aunt Petunia was always screaming at Dudley and Uncle Vernon for leaving the seat up after they took a piss. Always shrieking,  _ ‘do you want me to fall in, get stuck and sucked down the pipes?’ _ I figured it must be one of those things women have to worry about.” 

“D’you think someone should go check on them? “ Ernie theorised, getting to his feet. “Harry’s right, they could be in danger. I’ll go save them.” He puffed out his chest importantly and leered, thinking of how much love the distressed damsels would bestow on him when he charged in, a true White Knight.

But just at that very moment, the door leading to the lavatories slowly swung open, revealing the women in all their returned glory.

Harry, Blaise and Terry snickered. 

“Bad luck, mate,” Blaise said as insincerely as possible as the women returned.

“Did you fall in?” Harry blurted, his mind awash with visions of witches being sucked down pipes like Moaning Myrtle after a flush, but with more pain and squashing.

The women exchanged a mysterious glance, one of those ones only women understand and that confuse and frighten men, and said nothing.

“Right, whose round is it?” Hannah demanded.


End file.
